


Sick Days

by JediBubbles



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, beware this is all the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediBubbles/pseuds/JediBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has a few sick days to cash in.  Dorian pops in to take care of her, as does Cullen.  Pure fluff.  You’ve been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Days

Disclaimer: Don’t own, all belongs to Bioware. 

This is my contribution to my fellow Lion Tamers. I figured I’d roll in the trash like everyone else. Even brought by Oscar the Grouch trash can along. 

**EDIT:** Fixed a couple oopsies that prove why I shouldn't write in the middle of the night. Sorry about that. 

 

 

Creators and Maker, she wanted to drive a pick into her skull to relieve the throbbing pressure of mucus residing in her head. It was a wicked drumbeat that she wanted to set on fire. Removing herself from her couch was out of the question. She had tried. It wouldn’t do for the illustrious Inquisitor Lavellan to stay abed all day. She made it an hour past breakfast before she retired to her rooms with request not to be disturbed for the rest of the day unless it was an emergency. 

While in her rooms, she managed to shift her couch back to her preferred spot in front of the fireplace before the effort proved too much, and she collapsed on top of it with the blanket that she had tied around her shoulders like a cape. After a few minutes rest, she thought perhaps she should work on some paperwork that had piled up between her trips across the Orlesian and Ferelden countryside. Standing was too much effort. She fell back down with a squeak and decided to stay put. 

Fire was nice. It was her best friend, kept her warm. Warmth was a commodity; one she very much enjoyed, especially after her lonely, frigid march from Haven to the piss end part of the Frostbacks. The cold had made her so stupid that she had asked Cullen if she still had a nose when he reached her, because she was nearly certain it fell off a half mile ago. Ever since she endeavored to be as warm as possible, especially around Cullen if only to spare herself further embarrassment. 

For the majority of the day, she dozed, headache and fever making her fuzzy and weak. At one point Dorian came. They had a wonderful chat; witty, sparkling, charming and such, she was certain, which was usually how their conversations went. He expressed sympathy for her illness, said he couldn’t heal her because it was better if her body fought it naturally. She knew that. She was a mage, too, damn it. It irritated her that people felt the need to inform her about her area of study more often than not. Did they think Dalish education lacking? Creators and Maker both damn them. To his credit, Dorian place a strong tea made from valerian root and chamomile on the floor next to her with a bowl of broth and stayed until she drank both. It was kind of him. He even let her use his handkerchief after she threatened to blow her nose on him when he was far too witty for her mind to grasp at the moment. 

So her ungenerous thoughts were more due to grouchiness about confinement to her couch for the day. How could she be grouchy with Dorian? He was a good friend to put up with her. 

When she woke up from her tea-induced sleep, the fire was roaring happily, having been refreshed and there was a piece of parchment on her face. Her eyes were difficult to focus on the paper, but she managed well enough to read a message from Dorian telling her that he took the liberty of fixing up her fire and asking for more broth and tea to be sent to her room come supper. Truly he was a great man. 

Lifting her head a bit, she had a wild idea of trying to make it to her bed. Her bed was soft and warm and by the looks of it someone ordered the coal pans filled and slid beneath the mattress. All blessings upon Dorian; he was her favorite. 

With her blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders she shakily walked back to her bed, feeling the chill of the floor through the wool of her socks. This cold was going to be her undoing. It rattled through her, shaking her bones from the inside to outside. She was sure if she could make it to her bed, she would be warm again. 

Only one minor incident of lurching occurred on the journey. It was all right; she lurched into the bed post. It gave her the opportunity to tug half-heartedly on her bed curtains, which she only managed to partially close. Once she reached her goal, she cuddled under the blankets, taking care that they were over her head, and fell asleep. 

Cold air and lips upon her forehead woke her up. She snorted in protest, blindly fumbling for the blankets with sleepy hands. 

“There now, you’re awake.” Oh, it was Cullen. 

She squinted open one eye to be sure. It was him. He was mean to wake her up. She meant to tell him that only it came out as a whine and a weak push to his face. He placed his hand over hers to keep it on his face and kissed it. 

“Shh, shh, I’m sorry, but you have to eat.” He rubbed the fingers of his other hand up and down her forearm as he spoke. He wasn’t wearing gauntlets. She could feel the drag and catches of his roughened finger tips along her smooth skin. 

“’M fine. No food.” 

“I’m afraid I disagree with you there, Gwyneira. Food will give you strength to throw this off.” It was strange to hear him say her name. No one used it anymore. Well, Dorian called her Gwynie sometimes, but it hardly counted because she usually threatened bodily harm when he did so. He kissed her palm again. Hearing her name almost made her want to giggle. The only other time he said it was during sex or other very intimate moments. He dropped her hand while she was lost in thought. She whined again. She liked him holding her hand. It didn’t matter that some time may have passed between him dropping her hand and her noticing. The principle remained the same. He should just stay there and hold her hand. 

She opened her eyes fully to see where he had gone. It better be bloody good for him to leave her. Oh, he was removing his armor. The thinning of his layers was always a good reason for him not to hold her hand. His boots were the last pieces of clothing he took off, and he brought a tray to her bedside table. It had two mugs, neither of which she was particularly interested in at the moment because Cullen was slipping beneath the covers to join her. 

“Wait. Cullen, I’m sick. Out.” 

The look he gave told her exactly what he thought of her order. He ignored her and scooted closer. She pushed at him with her foot but it backfired. He used his other leg to hook over the back of hers. In conjunction with an arm he suddenly had around her waist, she was very quickly tucked against his chest. He was so warm, and she was so cold. Weak-willed as she was right now, she buried her face in his warm body for a moment, just long enough for him to land another kiss on top of her head that nearly made it impossible for her to have any desire to wiggle away. One arm holding her to him while the other tucked the blankets around her won her over completely. 

She still owed him one final warning. “If you don’t leave, you’ll be sick, too.” 

Her warning might have had more effect if she hadn’t said it while nuzzling into his chest. From his quiet huff of laughter and smiling mouth pressed against her forehead, she gathered he thought so, too. She would try better next time when he wasn’t so deliciously warm. 

“Dorian told me it was a sinus infection, nothing contagious. I’m staying right here. And you are going to drink this broth before you go back to sleep.” 

He propped himself against the headboard and rearranged her so that she was mostly on his lap, leaning against his chest for support. He handed her the mug with broth, holding it until she had a decent grip with both hands before placing one hand against her side and the other in her hair where he rubbed gentle circles on her scalp. It was better than the valerian root tea. Twice, Cullen had to catch the broth before she sloshed it over the both of them. 

When she finished he tried to insist upon the tea but she fought it with enough fervor that he backed down and resumed simply holding her. He was warm; almost enough to fight away the fever chills. She loved how his hands skated against her scalp. To show her appreciation, she tilted up her head and kissed his chin. It made him laugh, and he moved his head down to place a soft, lingering kiss against her mouth before pressing their foreheads together. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” he said, gently knocking their noses together. “I was up to my thighs in paperwork today.”

“I didn’t mind. I didn’t expect for anyone to come or notice that I wasn’t there.” 

His slight frown told her that he believed it to be a silly thought but was too polite to say to her face. “Dorian came. Why would I not come when he told me?”

“I don’t even know how Dorian found out.” 

“You were supposed to have lunch with him today, love. You mentioned it this morning. Which reminds me, if you feel ill, tell me in the morning, I’ll make sure no one bothers you during the day and I can keep you company.” 

“I didn’t feel so bad this morning. Besides, wouldn’t all of your runners disturb the sick room?” At his deepening frown, she gave a croaky, phlegmy laugh. She leaned up and kissed his nose. “Don’t look so surly. If they came here, you would scare them all off with your angry face, and you’d be down several runners.” 

When his frown became a scowl, she laughed again and kissed him until her head throbbed. His hands resumed rubbing her scalp as he tucked her back against his chest. “They can last a day without me, surely.”

“Mmm, we’ll see,” she said, burying her face into his linen shirt. 

He slowly moved them until they were lying on the mattress, both only elevated because of his position against the pillows. “Sleep, Gwyneira, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hmph.” She liked it when he kissed her forehead like that. 

The next day was spent similar to the first, only Cullen stayed by her side and so her transition to the couch was much easier as he carried her. She also had enough strength to do an hour of work while he half-heartedly read Hard in Hightown. Around lunch, he dressed and brought real food for her since she had the energy to eat it. He was gone for maybe an hour, and she dozed during that time. She woke up to his kiss on her forehead again. Then they exchanged stories on and off. It was mostly him talking while she lay on top of him in a doze, sleepily commenting every so often. 

The third was about the same, only she had enough strength that she felt well enough to be left alone and convinced Cullen to make an appearance. Twenty minutes after he left, Dorian came in with the chess board and a deck of cards and stayed for an hour after Cullen returned. 

The fourth she hammed her illness a little, and Cullen indulged her with a morning of very, very slow sex that had her breathless for better reasons than a snotty nose.


End file.
